French Countryside

It was here that I realized Bill was right about how I needed to be babysat along rural, country roads. While painting I'm completely oblivious to anything but what is right in front of me. Our car looked vacant because Bill was lying down, on the back seat, reading. But the ever watchful eye of my husband spied a car pull up and the man who got out circle a clump of nearby trees before making his move toward me. That's when Bill got out of the car to step between me and the stranger. Without any of us speaking a word and as nonchalantly as you please the fellow neatly veered away, got back into his car and drove off.

And to the east at Rousillion see the bottom of this linked page to find a photo of the square I painted in Portes de Rousillion of doors set in red and yellow walls. The buildings of this entire town are coloured as the cliffs they are built on. Fascinating. Imagine living bathed in such warmth ...

Scary...I try to stay in the car with the doors locked, seat pushed back and painting resting on steering wheel... but not always possible or practical. People even harmless ones, seem to think an artist painting outdoors gives them carte blanche to stop and stare...I try to ignore them (but I'm a miserable so and so!)